


The Facebook Case

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Being Apart, Confession, Dancing, Drunk John, Explicit Sexual Content, Facebook, Flirting, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Mrs Hudson Knows The Score, Pouting, Sherlock's Lost Without John, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4826534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John leaves London to attend a wedding. When Sherlock's on his own, he stumbles into what might be the most important case of their lives.</p><div class="center">
  <p><br/><i>Happy Birthday to JW!<br/>She's the best John Watson this Sherlock Holmes has ever known! SH</i><br/><img/><br/>Art by <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/amysnotdeadyet?section_id=10946290&ref=shopsection_leftnav_1">amysnotdeadyet</a><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. When The Cat's Away . . .

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John had been away entirely too long, and Sherlock was really hating it.

Of course, John had invited him to the wedding, but both of them knew that kind of thing wasn't Sherlock's scene. So Sherlock had explained that he should stay in London to handle cases, since one of them at least had to keep their business afloat. John had pouted a bit, but they both also knew that when it came to pouting, Sherlock was the undoubted champion so eventually John had boarded the train and left Sherlock alone in the flat.

And, of course, they hadn't had a single case since John had gone.

Which meant that Sherlock had been spectacularly bored.

He'd tried harassing Lestrade. He'd tried harassing his brother. He'd even logged onto John's blog but harassing those who left comments there hadn't worked to drum up any business either. Sherlock couldn't understand it.

So he busied himself doing other things. He cleaned his work area, finally discovering what precisely was causing that smell John had been complaining about. He re-organised his books and then re-organised them again in a slightly different manner. He'd already been through John's room, looking for something that would prove John was not who he said he was or had not gone where he'd said he'd gone, but found nothing of interest whatsoever. He cursed John for being so genuine all the time.

He harassed John, too. Although John had said he'd keep in contact when he left that day on the train, Sherlock realised almost immediately that one text at the end of the day was not going to be enough. He didn't want to hear how John's day had been -- he wanted to _know_ how it'd been because he'd seen it with his own eyes. He wanted John's day to have been spent here with him. So by the second day, Sherlock had decided he'd text John whenever he wanted, whenever he'd normally speak to him if John were still in London where he should be. This meant he'd been sending quite a few texts to John Watson.

But still it wasn't enough. After making a cup of tea, Sherlock grabbed his phone and flopped on to the sofa.

_You need to come back. Our business is failing because of your stupid holiday, and I also don't like not knowing what you are doing. Stop being selfish. SH_

When Sherlock's text came through, John was in the shower, getting ready to go meet the groomsmen for lunch. He wasn't in the wedding, but his friend had invited him to join them on their various parties and get togethers and he was approaching it as a little break from work and the city. He was still a bit pouty about Sherlock not coming with him, and he felt a small stab of guilt for being glad that he was bored. He took a deep breath and sat down on the bed.  
  
_You should have come with me. I am actually working a case right now all on my own. -JW_  
  
He smiled and hoped that wasn't too mean as he stood to get dressed.

_Is that a lie? You've been gone for two days and have already become someone I can't trust. This is why you should never leave. SH_

_Of course it's a lie, you goof. I've just been enjoying seeing my friend again. It's not selfish. -JW_

_I thought I was your friend. SH_

_You are. But he's my friend too. Just like Mike and Greg and Molly. -JW_

_You're cruel. SH_

_They are your friends too. -JW_

_You're my only friend, John Watson, and you know that. Despite the fact that you have abandoned me. Should I interview replacements or will you please just come home? SH_

_I can't come home until after the wedding, Sherlock. There's still time to join me. -JW_

_That seems needlessly complicated. It'd be easy for you to return. SH_

_Well, you can follow along virtually. -JW_

_You mean you'll keep me permanently on Skype and I'll let you know which of the guests you needn't bother trying to sleep with? SH_

_I don't think so. You didn't want to come so you don't get that much access. How about Facebook instead? -JW_

Sherlock wondered what that first comment meant -- was John doing something he wanted to hide from Sherlock? He sat up and moved over to his desk. Sherlock didn't have a Facebook account because he thought it was stupid, and if they ever needed to access someone else's (which, he was willing to admit, they had a few times), they'd always done it via John's page. He hit the Sign Up button.

_Fine. But I'm not using my real name and I delete it once you return. If you return. SH_

_Agreed. Tell me what your fake name is so that I can add you. -JW_

Sherlock started his page. He skipped over personal details and ignored the questions of what he "liked."

_Hamish Sigerson. SH_

John blinked at the name and cursed Sherlock's skills. He had never told anyone his middle name.

_Okay. I've just sent the request. Very funny, by the way. -JW_

Sherlock smiled. Then a notification popped up on his page. John Watson had requested his friendship. That gave Sherlock a little chuckle. He approved.

_Fine. We're friends. What do I do now? SH_

_Now you follow. I'll put pictures up, other people will put pictures, so you'll be able to see what's going on. -JW_

Sherlock clicked on John's profile. He didn't see any recent updates so he began to wonder if this had been some kind of weird trick.

He picked up his phone.

_I don't see any wedding pictures. SH_

_The wedding hasn't happened yet, you idiot. Look, I have to go now but I will talk to you soon, okay? - JW_

John put his phone into his pocket and hurried out of the room and down to the lobby. His friend squeezed his shoulder as they left the hotel and started telling stories about the last minute craziness of preparing. They would be going out tonight to decompress a little. John grinned and agreed to join them.

Sherlock had spent the rest of the day analysing everything on John's Facebook page. He noted that a number of his status comments showed annoyance with "stubborn people" -- he looked back over his calendar to compare dates and determined that John had been complaining about him. The photographs were also interesting. They were all ones where John looked quite handsome, and Sherlock was pretty sure that a few wrinkles had been Photoshopped away. Sherlock had scanned John's friends list, copying down the names he did not recognise and doing a bit of investigation on each. He put question marks next to the ones he felt John should no longer be friends with.

The lunch was a lot of fun, and John was even more glad he had left London. When he was back up in his room, he found Sherlock's page but there was nothing on it -- no picture or information or anything. It was a fake page after all, so he didn't know what he expected. He closed out of it and settled into bed to watch a movie before he got ready for going out. All he did was change his shirt to something a bit more dressy. He wondered what Sherlock would think about his outfit, and he smiled. He snapped a photo of himself, just a selfie showing his chest and up. He found Sherlock's page and posted the photo on his wall.  
  
_What do you think?_

Sherlock had finally stood up from the desk to make a cup of tea when he heard a ping from his computer. He looked over the picture John had sent. He picked up his phone.

_Where are you going dressed like that? SH_

_Out to a pub with my friend and the other guys. -JW_

_Names, please. SH_

_I am not going to list everyone's names, Sherlock. Why does that matter? -JW_

_Is it Liam? Don't get in a car with him -- he got a drink-driving offense last month and shouldn't be on the road. SH_

_Liam is not driving, my friend Mark is. Can you not research everyone, please? -JW_

_It's too late. What's Mark's surname? If it's Williams, keep him away from young women. SH_

_Stop it. I am leaving now. Talk to you later. -JW_  
  
_Fine. Make your own mistakes. SH_

Sherlock went to John's page and re-investigated all the friends called Mark. Then he went back to his own profile page. Facebook asked him to customise it. And for some reason he did.

He listed Memphis, Tennessee as his hometown and Dubai as his current location. He put that he was in a relationship with John Watson, but when he typed in the name, he was surprised to see just how many of them were on Facebook. He considered choosing a different one, but settled on his John Watson instead. He listed Jeremy Kyle as his favourite television show, and wrote pornography for his film preferences. For music choices, he just picked the first five that Facebook suggested. He left the sports section blank. For hobbies, he added mould, corpses, and pornography.

Then he got up from his desk and went into take a hot bath. He thought about John and hoped that this Mark could abstain since drinking was likely to be part of the plan for John's night.

He wasn't wrong. The night was fun -- John hadn't been out like that in a long time. He was aware of someone taking pictures through the night, but he didn't really think about it. He danced with a couple different girls and at one point was pulled into a dance by his very drunk friend. He had meant to text Sherlock when he got in, but he was too tired. He dropped onto the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

When Sherlock got out of the bath, he was disappointed but not surprised that he hadn't heard from John. He noticed that his newsfeed -- which had previously been entirely blank except for ads about diabetes testing -- now contained a number of photographs of John. He scanned through them. Yes, John was drunk, and he smiled a little. Until he saw John dancing. For some reason, those pictures didn't make Sherlock smile. In fact, they kind of annoyed him. He went to the top of page and looked at the blank box asking him what was on his mind. He typed in "Some people are so selfish," because, he was surprised to find, that was what was on his mind. He closed the laptop and moved to the sofa to unhappily flip through the channels until he fell asleep.


	2. . . .The Mouse Doesn't Handle It Very Well

When John got out of the shower in the morning, he noticed his phone blinking and assumed someone had commented on the photos. He ignored it while he ate breakfast and didn't check it until he lay down to watch the news. He blinked at Sherlock's status and knew he would be pouting about the photos. He opened a text.  
  
_I am not selfish. I was having fun with my friends which you were more than welcome to join. -JW_

Sherlock heard his phone and opened his eyes. He was still on the sofa, dressed in yesterday's clothes. His neck hurt. He reached for his phone and immediately felt annoyed again.

_Obviously, fun is not something you ever associate with me. I'm work apparently, fun is elsewhere. SH_

He tossed the phone onto the chair and rolled off the sofa to get up to make a cup of tea.

_Please don't be so pouty. We have fun all the time. -JW_

Sherlock heard the phone and went over to check it. Well, that pretty much guaranteed Sherlock would continue to pout. He took the phone and his tea to his desk to check for cases, but there was nothing new in his Inbox except a notification of a message on Facebook. He clicked on it and a young woman's picture appeared. The message said, "Ive been loooking for yuo 4eva. Friend me so we can talk." He looked at the picture but had no idea who she was. Why had she been looking for Sherlock? He was about to click on accept, but thought he'd better check with John.

_Shut up now about that. I need your advice. Some woman called Sasha Galore wants to be my friend on Facebook. Should I accept? SH_

_She found your fake name? Who is she? - JW_

Sherlock hadn't thought about the fake name business. That made him even more curious. How did she know Sherlock's pseudonym? Just then another Facebook message appeared. It read, "Im DESPERATE to here from you. I no just what you need and I'm so EXCITED to talk to you. Please say YES. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

_No idea. Her spelling's atrocious and she's a bit generous with kisses, but it seems urgent because she says she's desperate. Maybe it's a case? SH_

John smiled and assumed it was one of those people reaching out to try to up their friend counts with anyone or some kind of spam thing. But Sherlock didn't need to know that.

_You should do it. It sounds like she has a crush on you. -JW_

Sherlock read the text and felt confused. Did John know this Sasha after all? He clicked accept. Immediately three more messages came through all with links to other sites.

_She's sent some links. Should I click on them? SH_

John was worried now that the spam might ruin the computer.

_What kind of websites do they look like? Did she send you pictures of herself? -JW_

_You'd probably find her attractive. She has extremely large breasts. Do you know her? What am I supposed to do, John? This whole Facebook thing was your idea. SH_

_Don't do anything. It's a fake name to get access to your details. You can delete her if you want. - JW_

John realised it wasn't as fun to tease him when he wasn't there to see Sherlock's bewildered face. He smiled softly at the thought of that.

Sherlock stared at the links and thought about clicking on one. Instead he Googled the woman's name and multiple porn sites came up. He unfriended her. So far being on Facebook had been nothing but trouble. He realised John probably knew all about scams like this and the whole "crush" thing was just him teasing Sherlock. He really didn't like that, but didn't want to let John know.

_Why aren't you out with one of your real friends instead of pestering me? SH_

_We're not going out until tonight. And I'm not pestering you. I'm chatting. - JW_

And I miss you, John thought, but he didn't send that through.

_So it appears you were drunk last night. I hope you didn't make any additional poor decisions and if you did, I hope you're not planning on moving her into the flat. SH_

_I'm not telling you. - JW_

Of course John hadn't done anything, but if Sherlock was going to keep acting like such a baby, John would play along.

_Maybe I'll make another mistake tonight. -JW_

_Perhaps I will follow your lead. You know, while the cat's away... If you're not interested in having fun with me, maybe I should find someone else who is. SH_

John raised his brows and tried to imagine Sherlock with someone else. Was this more of his pouting?

_Well, perhaps your big breasted friend will help. -JW_

Sherlock felt like throwing his phone, but he didn't.

_You're not very nice when you're away. SH_

_I thought we were playing. I'm just teasing you. -JW_

_I'm not teasing you, John. I just want you to come back here. SH_

After he sent it, Sherlock realised that perhaps he would regret his honesty. So he quickly added another.

_Besides isn't teasing what you'll be doing with your mates tonight? Perhaps you shouldn't waste it on me. SH_

_I have plenty of teasing to go around. I will be home after the wedding. It's just a couple more days. - JW_

_John, I don't like when you're not here. SH_

This time he let his honesty go without a sarcastic follow up.

John sighed softly and sat on the edge of the bed. Maybe this wasn't time to hold back his feelings. Unless Sherlock was teasing to make him feel guilty. He sighed more heavily.

_I miss you too, Sherlock. I will be home soon. - JW_

That made Sherlock feel better. But it still wasn't as good as John being here.

_Unless you're currently on a train, that's a lie. SH_

_Soon can mean a couple days. I'm sorry, I have to go again. I will talk to you even sooner. -JW_

_Fine. I shall find something else to busy myself with. SH_

Sherlock sent the text and then stared around the empty flat. He literally had no idea what to do now.

John wished that Sherlock had come with him, even if he had been rude and bored he wouldn't have been so pouty and so sad. Was Sherlock sad? He seemed it. But why would he be sad -- he was always threatening to kick John out so he could have back his precious privacy. This didn't really make sense, but John would be home soon and hopefully everything would be back to normal.

He had lunch at a small cafe in town and then met his friend at the chapel for the rehearsal. He didn't need to be there, but he wasn't doing anything else. When it was over he went back to his room to change, waiting for them to come get him for the stag do. He picked up his phone.

_I have a few minutes. How's it going? -JW_

Sherlock had spent the entire day involved in various levels of panic. First, he could not find something he was looking for and became convinced that someone had broken into the flat while he slept and stolen it (he found it hours later in precisely the place he'd forgotten he'd left it). He'd gone down to yell at Mrs Hudson for her poor security measures, but she wasn't home, so he started to worry that she had been kidnapped (she was out at the shop buying scratchcards). When he went back upstairs, he checked his Facebook page. There was nothing new from John or Sasha, but his newsfeed was full of articles and links about health-related issues. He began to worry about his GI system, his blood pressure, his arteries and his prostate. He was collapsed on the sofa when John's text arrived. 

_I'm not well. SH_

_What's the matter? -JW_

_Diverticulitis with a touch of hardened arteries. I also have an earache, and possibly a previously unnoticed case of TB which apparently is on the rise again. Did you know that? Why did you miss my symptoms, John? You're a doctor. SH_

_Sherlock, no. There is nothing wrong with you except boredom. -JW_

_Your guilt is clouding your judgment. If I'm still alive when you return, do a thorough examination and not just your usual shrugging off my health issues, please? SH_

Sherlock smiled at his phone. He was kind of enjoying this. He wondered if this was the kind of teasing John would be doing with other people tonight.

_Nope. In fact, I'm going to hide you somewhere and tell people you went on holiday. Maybe if you really had gone on holiday (with me) you would be healthy. -JW_

_You are a cruel man, John Watson. That may be what's caused these illnesses. The lack of cruelty in the flat has had a surprising effect on my health. SH_

_Sorry, are you saying you need my cruelty to be healthy? -JW_

_It appears so. Mrs Hudson has been trying to look after me, but her kindness has not been beneficial whatsoever. SH_

_Well I'll just have to give her a call and tell her to start properly harassing you. -JW_

_I'd rather have you here doing it. You're extremely good at being cruel. Where did you learn that? SH_

_It's just a gift I was born with. -JW_

_Don't be cruel to anyone else tonight, okay? SH_

John smiled despite the oddness of the line.

_I promise. - JW_

Sherlock set his phone on the table. He lay still for a little while before realising he was going to have to do something to get through the night and next few days. He wasn't quite sure why he'd become so useless without John -- it was strange, he'd always liked being alone, he often thrived when he was alone. Why did it feel so different now? Why did he feel so . . . dependent on John?  
  
He moved over to his work area and flipped through his notebook to find a project he'd been meaning to do. He did and began working.

John watched a bit more of the news before they came to get him. He climbed into the car with everyone else and slipped the phone into his pocket, forgotten for now. They went to the first pub, and John bought his friend and the boys the first round.

Sherlock worked for a number of hours. It was good to be distracted, particularly since he ended up finding out his hypothesis had been right. He made some tea and ate a banana before checking his Inbox. There was a possible client so he got in touch with her. He was feeling better.

By the third pub John was happy and having a very good time. He pulled out his phone and found Sherlock's number.

_Should've come! - JW_

Sherlock picked up his phone. He did not like the looks of that. John was obviously already drunk. He opened up Facebook, just in case photos started to appear. He realised he didn't even want to see them, yet he couldn't stop himself from watching for their arrival.

_No thank you. SH_

_Yes! It'll be so fun! - JW_

_We can dance! - JW_

Sherlock let the texts keep coming without replying. He got out the newspaper and pretended to read that while continually watching his Facebook newsfeed.

John was already quite drunk. At some point someone started taking photos when the boys started doing shots.

Sherlock watched the photos as they appeared. He hated every single person in each of them, except John who looked drunk, of course. But he also looked . . . handsome really. Like he was having fun. Did he ever look like that with Sherlock? Sherlock couldn't remember now, but worried that he didn't. He closed his laptop and made a new cup of tea. But soon enough he was back at his desk, his laptop open, waiting and feeling a bit sick again.

_Sherlock! I want to dance you! - JW_

That was the last message John remembered sending. Before long he was back in his room and climbing into bed.

Sherlock hadn't replied to any of John's texts. He couldn't decide how they made him feel. At least John hadn't totally forgotten about his existence (a worry he knew was stupid but he still had). But the photos made Sherlock's heart hurt a little -- John was having fun, that was obvious. John was having more fun than he ever had in London, more fun than he ever had with Sherlock.


	3. Mrs Hudson Gives Sherlock A Case

In the morning, Sherlock read through all the texts again while sitting next to the computer, comparing the timings of the texts and the photos. This was depressing him too much. He needed to snap out of it. He began searching Facebook for people he knew, but soon that was also depressing -- he liked Lestrade but had never wanted to see him in a swimsuit and now he had and wasn't sure he'd ever get the image out of his mind.   
  
Then an idea came to him. He went back to his page and typed: _Last night was the best night in a very long time_. He stared at it for a while and then hit Post. He stood up to make himself more tea.

John woke up with a headache. It was worse than the night before. He staggered up to make some tea, looking at his phone. He cringed at the messages and checked Facebook. He saw Sherlock's post and tilted his head.

_Sorry for bombarding you last night. Hope I didn't ruin anything. What did you do?-JW_

Sherlock felt pleased when he saw John's text. And then a tiny bit guilty but he decided to ignore that part.

_Didn't even notice them until this morning. Just went out with a friend. Is today the wedding? SH_

_Yes, the wedding is today. I'm glad that you're having fun as well. -JW_

John wondered who this person was, but he didn't ask. He didn't want Sherlock to read into it too much and start panicking about John's feelings. He would be home soon and he could see for himself.  

Sherlock frowned. John wasn't supposed to be glad Sherlock was having fun, he was supposed to be . . . what? What was Sherlock trying to make John feel? He had a pretty good idea, but instead of naming it properly, he decided to go for not glad. John was supposed to be not glad Sherlock was having fun without him.

_I am. Turns out Sasha was not a scam after all. A very good friend of mine from long ago. I've probably not told you anything about her. But yes, I am having fun. It's very fun. This flat has never seen so much fun. SH_

_PS Have a good time at the wedding. SH_

That should do the trick, Sherlock thought, before being no longer able to deny that he was making a total fool of himself.

John blinked at the message and shook his head. That couldn't be right at all. He felt a spark of . . . anger? Jealousy? Yes, it was jealousy. But he didn't want to think about all of that so instead of answering, he started getting ready to go. 

There was no answer from John which only made Sherlock feel more stupid. He got up from his desk and went down to knock on Mrs Hudson's door.

"I'm surprised it took you this long," she said, pulling the door open and motioning for Sherlock to come inside. She got a pot of tea and brought it over to the table where Sherlock had sat down.

"What's that supposed to be mean?" he asked, as he fiddled with her salt and pepper shakers.

"I know you've been . . . struggling without John here," she said softly.

"I have not," Sherlock lied.

"Of course not," she said. "What was I thinking? The past few days have been your most productive, right?"  
  
"Well . . ." 

"Most enjoyable?"

"No, but . . ."

"You miss John," she said. "And the whole world knows you're not very good when you don't get what you want."  
  
"And what is it you think I want?" Sherlock asked suspiciously.

"John," she answered.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"You know precisely what I mean," she said. She looked over at him. "Don't you?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Maybe," he mumbled.

"So instead of pouting or whatever it is you're doing up there," she said. "Why not spend the time alone deciding what you're going to tell him when he returns?"

Sherlock thought again for another moment. "I can't . . . say anything . . ."  
  
"Why not?"

"Because I don't know how to do any of that," he said quietly. "And besides I seem to have implied that I have a girlfriend now so I think I've kind of ruined any chance . . ." he added.

Mrs Hudson sighed. "Sherlock Holmes, why do you have to make everything so unnecessarily complicated? You and John obviously love each other and --"

"Then why did he leave me for his friends to have fun, more fun than he ever has here?" Sherlock interrupted.

"Stop," she said gently. "Stop thinking of things outside of Sherlock. Think about what's inside. When you go back upstairs, use the rest of his time away to get sorted on what's inside. Then you'll know what to do when he returns."

Sherlock didn't want to do that. It seemed difficult. And scary. But he didn't admit either of those things to Mrs Hudson though he had a feeling she already knew.

The wedding was lovely as all weddings are. John sat near the back and resisted pulling his phone out to check on Sherlock. His mind was still wondering about this other friend of Sherlock's, but he was trying not to think about it.

While the wedding party was taking pictures, John headed to the reception hall even though it was a bit early. Everything seemed to take a long time -- they came in dancing, they took their seats, they gave their speeches, they served the food, and then finally the bar was open and everyone was dancing. 

Sherlock had spent the day switching between trying to follow Mrs Hudson's advice and trying not to think about it all. He felt so stupid about how he'd been reacting. Was it just an exaggerated form of pouting or did he really love John like Mrs Hudson said? But she'd also said that they loved each other -- was that really true? Did John love him?

Part of what was throwing Sherlock off was that all of this -- his reactions, her comment, the possibility of love in this flat -- was so unexpected. Sherlock liked knowing what to expect. He liked wanting a solution, working to find the solution, and then getting it. That's what he was used to, that was logical. He hadn't worked to love John or make John love him. But had those things happened anyway? And what was he supposed to do about them if they had? And what if he did do something and it turned out Mrs Hudson was wrong?

He had so many questions but no answers. And then all of a sudden he realised, this was just a case. A different type, yes, and one in which he was personally involved, true, but he had a problem and wanted a solution. He could work to find it and he would, because that was his job, that's what Sherlock was good at. He immediately felt better. He got up from the sofa and moved to his desk.

He got out a piece of paper and at the top wrote Evidence-SH. He started to list all the evidence he could think of that meant that he loved John. He was embarrassed having to include the last few days but was surprised how easy it was to find things from before John had left. Little things that he'd done or changed for John -- things he hadn't intended but just found himself doing naturally -- so far, it looked like Mrs Hudson might be right. He flipped the page over and wrote Evidence-JW. He wanted to find evidence that John felt the same way. He quickly flipped the paper back to his side and wrote "Wants John to feel the same way." Then he noticed the time. The wedding was probably well underway. He opened Facebook and waited for the pictures to start appearing.

John kept making visits to the bar and reluctantly dancing with different women who pulled him to the floor. He wasn't as enthusiastic now that Sherlock was on his mind so much. He pulled away from the floor and got out his phone.

_Seeing your friend again? - JW_

Sherlock saw the pictures John was being tagged in, but he couldn't actually see John. There was one where it looked like John was in the background, just standing around, but the others were group shots, and the smiling, laughing faces in front weren't John's. Then he heard his phone vibrate. He got up and grabbed it from the table.

_No. She is unimportant. I hope you are having a good time. SH_

John looked at the message and drained his glass, wishing they would go back to the way it was before, with Sherlock pouting and whining. This sort of well wishing made him feel guilty.

_It's all right. I'll be home tomorrow night. -JW_

Sherlock took a deep breath.

_And will the offer of a dance still be on the table? SH_

He hit send and then exhaled.

_Of course. -JW_

John giggled lightly and went to get another drink.

_Even if you are not drunk? SH_

Sherlock stared at the phone, waiting for John's reply, even though he knew that the fact that John was currently drunk might mean his answer might not be reliable.

_I still want to dance with you. -JW_

John got out of the queue for the bar and moved to the wall, leaning on it and closing his eyes so he could clear his mind. 

_Why? SH_

John took a deep breath, letting the alcohol through a bit to give him courage.

_I like you. - JW_

_And I miss you. - JW_

_How much do you miss me, John Watson? SH_

_So, so much. Do you miss me? -JW_

Sherlock moved over to the sofa and lay back, smiling at John's texts. 

_I miss you very much, John Watson. I wish you weren't there with them. SH_

John moved to an even more secluded corner. 

_Is something serious going on that requires my full name? -JW_

_Possibly. When you come home, you will find out. SH_

_You didn't burn anything down, did you? -JW_

_Damage was limited so settle down. Are you having fun? SH_

_Yeah, I suppose. The reception is a lot like the other nights. -JW_

Suddenly he was pulled into a reluctant dance, and he slid the phone into his pocket.

Sherlock got up and went over to the desk. A few more pictures had been added, and then one came up with John dancing with a woman. Sherlock frowned. He'd been thinking about telling John what was actually in his head, what Mrs Hudson had said, what he was . . . feeling. He had wondered if maybe it'd be easier via text or when John was a little drunk. But now, after the picture, he felt unsure what to think about any of it.

_If you're coming back tomorrow, please get all the fun out of your system so that Baker Street can stay the un-fun place it has always been. SH_

_I have fun with you, idiot. -JW_

_I'm sorry that I'm not the kind of fun you like the most. SH_

_You are. You're_

He was what? Perfect? Amazing? Sherlock knew all of that already. John wanted to tell him something he didn't know.

_You are. You're exactly what I want. -JW_

Sherlock stared at the message.

_And you're exactly what I want, John Watson. SH_

John closed his eyes and tried to let the alcohol fade so he could think clearly. What was happening? What was all of this they were doing?

_Was that serious enough for my full name, Sherlock Holmes? -JW_

_It was. I choose my words carefully, as you know. SH_

John noticed how he avoided answering the question again.

_I know you do. I'll try and be patient. -JW_

_I will try as well. I am just as eager for your return as I was. SH_

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, considering precisely what, how, and when he wanted to talk to John about the things in his head. He knew the when was dependent on the what and how, which meant tonight was not the time. He had less than twenty-four hours to figure it all out. He needed to use that time wisely.

_Enjoy the rest of the night, John. I will see you tomorrow when you come home. SH_

John was sorry to see the conversation end and wished he could leave tonight. He put his phone away and went for another drink.

Sherlock closed his laptop. He didn't need to see any more photos tonight. He needed to focus on what would happen tomorrow. He got out more paper and began to write down what he wanted to say to John about how he had changed Sherlock's life.

After another forced dance, John snuck out early and went back to his hotel room. He chugged a glass of water and sat on the edge of his bed, too curious to try to sleep just yet.

He was trying to figure out what was going on with Sherlock. Two things were different. John had gone away on his own and he had made Sherlock get a Facebook. But that only reminded him about what Sherlock had said about not being fun like John wanted. He had to be talking about the photos.

John hadn't thought anything of it because Sherlock and jealousy didn't mix -- not for social things like this. And yet . . . now that he thought more closely he thought maybe he had seen signs of this before. Sherlock did actually seem the jealous type, about John at least, or was this theory just the alcohol skewing things in his head? John rubbed his face hard and had another glass of water. He sighed and lay down, trying to get some sleep and hoping it would all be revealed tomorrow. Something felt different about this.

In the morning, ignoring his headache, John staggered out of bed and quickly checked out, heading for the train. He texted Sherlock to let him know he was on his way and that he would text again when he got into London.

When he got up, Sherlock stared at the papers he'd written on last night. Mrs Hudson's claims were so clearly true. At least the one about Sherlock loving John. He still wasn't entirely convinced the feelings were mutual. He lay back down for a bit and then he set his idea into motion. This would involve a risk -- but important things usually did. He hoped it would pay off. 

When he got John's text, he started setting things up. About half way through, he decided it was probably worth running the idea by Mrs Hudson so he did. She made a few adjustments. Then he felt ready. Or at least as ready as he'd ever be.


	4. Sherlock Puts His Plan Into Action

The train wasn't moving fast enough. John was anxious, his leg bouncing as he watched the trees going past the window. And then finally the train entered the city. And it was slowing down. And it was stopping.

_I'm getting a cab in a few minutes. See you soon. -JW_

Sherlock read the text and then looked around the flat. Everything would be different the moment he replied. He took a deep breath.

_You should know that I am now aware that I love you, John Watson. SH_

John tripped on the pavement and stared at the message while people cursed at him as they bumped him out of the way.

_What? -JW_

He forced himself to keep walking, to keep moving towards the flat. This wasn't right. Sherlock didn't do that sort of thing.

_As I said yesterday, you know I choose my words carefully. Come home, please. SH_

John didn't reply again. He was running, weaving through the people he passed. Sherlock loved him. Him! He faltered to a stop and earned several more curses. He couldn't go home without a plan. How did he feel?

He looked around as if the answer would be on the street somewhere. He had missed him. And he had flirted a bit on the messages. And Sherlock was handsome and smart and . . . just good. He did love him. Romantically? He'd had small sexual encounters with other men a long time ago, but this wouldn't be like that. It would be everything. He started running again.

Sherlock wished he could go take another bath as tension and anxiety had taken over his whole body. But he couldn't, it was too late, he'd done it. In a few moments, John would come through that door knowing Sherlock loved him and . . . and he didn't know quite what would happen next. John would probably want to talk, but Sherlock didn't want to talk. Because talking wasn't necessary if John loved him back -- if John loved him back like Mrs Hudson said he did, they could just go back to how it'd been before except they'd both know for sure and maybe they could kiss and sleep in the same bed. But those things didn't need to be talked about. No, if John wanted to talk it could only be because he didn't love Sherlock, he'd have to tell Sherlock that Mrs Hudson was wrong. He knew John would do it carefully, kindly, but that's not what Sherlock wanted to happen. No, Sherlock didn't want John to want to talk. He stood up and turned on some music. It distracted him.

John let himself in and paused at the steps, trying to catch his breath and wiping his brow a bit. Maybe the running wasn't such a good idea. He climbed up slowly and let himself into their flat. He smiled stupidly. Sherlock looked nervous -- nervous! -- and he was waiting for what John had to say.

"I love you, too," he said softly.

"Good," Sherlock, trying to maintain what he thought was his cool exterior when inside he felt such overwhelming relief. "Then let's dance," he added, holding his hand out to John.

John smiled and took Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock slipped both their hands behind John's back and stepped closer. He grabbed John's other hand and slowly started to move their bodies to the music. He pressed his face to the side of John's head. "I didn't like when you were gone," he whispered as they swayed slightly.

"I don't think I'll ever leave again," John said back quietly.

"Good," Sherlock said. "I'm sorry I am . . . how I am. I didn't understand why but I think it's because . . . of how I feel about you. I'm not very experienced with these things so I . . . don't know how to act."

"It's okay," he murmured. "I love how you are. I like that you feel the same. That you had the courage to say so."

"It wasn't courage," Sherlock said. "It was Mrs Hudson." He dropped his head a little and smiled before pulling John a little closer as they continued to dance.

"I'll have to thank her later," John smiled, swaying with him.

"Is everything going to be different now, John?" Sherlock asked.

"I think so," he said. "But it's good."

"I don't want you to dance with anyone else anymore," Sherlock said. "Don't be angry but it's how I feel."

"I'm not angry. That's normal. I'm yours now," John said.. "I'm sorry if the pictures upset you. We can delete Facebook."

"I hate Facebook," Sherlock said. "And I don't like any of your friends named Mark."

John smiled as they moved.

"I think I was . . . jealous," Sherlock said. "I just want you to be . . . you know, only with me." Sherlock's voice made it sound like he was confessing to mass murder. He tucked his head closer to John's.

"Only with you," John confirmed. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock. They danced for a little while longer.

Finally, Sherlock whispered, "Should we kiss? I feel like I want to but I don't know if you do."

John flushed lightly. "Yeah, I do want to," he murmured, tipping his head up.

Sherlock looked down and kissed John's mouth softly. He moved his head back and said, "I liked that."

"I liked that too."

"Should we try it again?" Sherlock said, smiling.

John leaned up to kiss him again.

Sherlock let this kiss last a little longer. "I'm glad you're home," he said when it finished. "But we can't stay here dancing all evening. We need to . . . do something . . . I mean, live, you know, be normal."

John grinned. "You're right. We can just . . . be normal. Let's get ready for bed."

"John, it's like five in the afternoon," Sherlock said, laughing. "You should have food. Although I can barely remember how it used to be -- before you abandoned our home -- I have a vague recollection that you liked to eat." He stepped back and let John come in and get settled.

"I didn't realise the time," John laughed. "Okay. Let's have dinner."

Sherlock said, "I'll make tea. You can decide about dinner -- obviously I've not brought in any food since you left, I'm not even entirely sure I ate any, so we may need to order something." He stood up and moved to the kitchen.

John skipped searching the kitchen. He ordered their usual from the Thai place and then joined Sherlock in the kitchen. "So how did you know? I mean, how did you figure it all out?"

"Because I was . . . kind of useless without you," Sherlock said, feeling his face go a bit red. "I didn't understand why at first, but Mrs Hudson explained."  
  
"That was nice of her," he said.

"Well, she was really just trying to shut me up, I think," Sherlock said. He moved into the sitting room. "Did you know -- before, I mean?"

John thought about that. "I knew we were different than everyone else. I knew I felt something different than I have about other friends. I just thought it was you," he answered honestly.

"I am different, aren't I?" Sherlock said, smiling. "I don't know why you like that difference -- I'm not like your friends, you know. I can never be -- you know that, right? I can only be how I am."  
  
"I like how you are," John said. "You don't see me falling in love with my other friends," he smiled.

"Well, I don't know what you were doing with Mark and Liam and all those women, though you seemed quite keen on making me watch it all," Sherlock said, throwing a pillow over towards John.

"I couldn't control the photos! And it wasn't like that," John insisted.

"It felt like that . . . I didn't like it," Sherlock said. "It didn't seem right -- you with them and not me."

"Well, you should have come, shouldn't you?" John teased, tossing the pillow back. He got up for the door and paid for dinner, going to the kitchen to serve.

"If I had come, I wouldn't have had that talk with Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said, waiting for John to return with the plates. "And then neither of us would have known the truth."

"But we would have danced," John said.

"Maybe," Sherlock said. He smiled thanks to John for bringing in the food and took a small bite before realising he was actually quite hungry. "But we did dance and I didn't have to meet anyone new so I suppose this was the way it was meant to be."

"I suppose so," John smiled as he sat beside Sherlock with his dinner.

They finished their food and then Sherlock took the plates to the sink and made them each another cup of tea, bringing them back to the sitting room for John. "Do you think we'll be doing some more kissing later?" he asked from behind his cup of tea in a feeble attempt to be subtle.

John glanced over and smiled. "Yeah, I think so," he said.

"Do you think we might do . . . more?" Sherlock asked.

John bit his lip. "Yeah, I think so," he murmured. "What do you think about that?"

"I think I'd be interested in that -- I mean, I do know how to do it just because it's been years since I have," Sherlock said awkwardly. 

"It's been a while for me, well, the things I did, but yes. I'd like to do them with you. And more."

"Then it appears we're both on the same page," Sherlock said with a smile. "But you're probably too tired, after your long journey . . ."

"A little, but I think I can manage this," he smiled.

Sherlock stood up and moved over to the sofa next to John. He leaned in and kissed his mouth softly. "Maybe we could go into my room . . . maybe you could take your bags upstairs, take a shower or whatever, and then maybe we could go into my room?" He reached over and let both their hands rest on John's thigh.

John nodded. "Yes, that all seems doable. I want to do everything with you."

Sherlock wondered what exactly John meant and was keen to find out. "All right," he said. "Let me go tidy up while you get yourself sorted." He kissed him again and then stood up. 

John smiled at the casual kiss and stood up to get ready for bed. He was nervous and excited for what might come.

Sherlock went into his room and looked around. He had already tidied it up earlier, changing the bedsheets and even airing it out in the hope that they might be spending time in it together. He'd felt stupid at the time but now he was glad he had. He changed into his pajamas and lay down on the bed for a few minutes when he heard John in the shower. Then he got back up, put the kettle on again and took a fresh cup of tea over to the sofa to wait.

John brushed his teeth and put his pajamas on, coming back to the kitchen to find Sherlock and get his tea. He went out to sit beside him. He sat close, their thighs touching.

"Are you nervous?" Sherlock asked softly.

"A little, but in a good way," John said.

"I feel it, too -- well, look, it's stupid, isn't it? We know each other, you're home now. There's a reason to be nervous if you're going to a new place, or if you're on your own, but those things aren't true now. We're home, we're together. So let's not be nervous, okay?" Sherlock asked, reaching over and holding John's hand.

John grinned and squeezed his hand. "You're right," he nodded.

"Let's go into my room and lay down on the bed," Sherlock said, sitting up a little. "I'd like to kiss and just be by you and stuff and you can sleep there if you want . . . I mean, I'd like you to, since I've missed you."

"I was thinking about that as well," he said. "I would like that." 

"Good, see -- we know how to be with each other," Sherlock said, dropping John's hand and heading into the bedroom. "So let's go be with each other."


	5. Home

Sherlock moved over to his bed, pulled back the covers and got in.

John smiled as he got in with him. He turned on his side and looked at him. "Hello," he smiled wider.

Sherlock turned on his side to face John. "Did you have a good time at the wedding?" he asked.

John nodded. "The wedding was a lot of fun. Usually I don't like going to things like that, but he's a good mate. Did you do anything interesting while I was gone?"

"Not really," Sherlock said. "I might as well tell you . . . that Sasha person wasn't real. When I wrote that thing about having a good time, I suppose one could call that a lie."  
  
John smiled softly. "I encouraged that a bit so I forgive you," he said.

"Since we're being honest, John," Sherlock said, lying flat on his back again. "I don't think that Sasha was really interested in me as a person . . . I think she just wanted me for my body. I hope that doesn't make you too jealous," he added cheekily.

John grinned. "Well, I will fight her for you. It's a sexy body."

"Is it?" Sherlock asked. "You never noticed before."

"Of course I did. I just never said," he smiled.

"I see," Sherlock said. He reached over and let his hand rest on John's arm. "Do you know how this all happened, John? Did you mean for it to happen? Did you expect it?"

"I didn't expect it," John admitted. "It's a pleasant surprise. Different for me, but very good."

"I didn't expect it either," Sherlock said. "As you know . . . this business hasn't been a part of my life for a long time." He moved his hand up John's arm. "But I feel different now . . ." He looked over at John and smiled softly.

John smiled back at him, touching his cheek. "We can start slow," he said softly, moving a bit closer. "There's no rush now."

Sherlock leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the mouth. "I just . . . I just want you here, you know, close -- it seemed horrible while you were gone."

John nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. "I know. I missed you too," he said.

Sherlock moved his arm around John to pull their bodies closer together. He dropped his mouth to suck lightly on John's skin. Then he looked up at his face. "Did you shave in the shower? You taste like shaving foam," he said, smiling as he pulled a funny face.

"I might have," he smiled. "I really like you observing me in this new way."

"Hmmm . . . " Sherlock said, moving his mouth back to John's skin, kissing along his jaw. He moved up to his ear and then inhaled. "But you didn't rewash your hair -- you must have done that at the hotel, I don't recognise the smell of the shampoo."

John closed his eyes and felt his whole body warm. "I was just freshening up," he mumbled.

Sherlock kissed John's mouth a bit harder this time, letting his tongue slip inside. "Can you tell if I've smoked a cigarette while you were gone?" he asked.

John kissed him harder, licking into his mouth. "I can taste your tea," he murmured. He moved and kissed Sherlock's jaw and neck, licking softly. "And you used my cologne."

"Was that cologne?" Sherlock asked. "Because you left me alone, I had to make due with what was in the flat. I drank the bottle of cologne and ate at least two cushions from the sofa. I'm surprised you didn't notice that."

John chuckled before coming up to kiss his mouth again.

This time Sherlock deepened the kiss, making it longer as he moved their bodies even closer together and tangled his legs with John's. "This is good," he mumbled before kissing him again.

John hummed his agreement as he moved his hands into Sherlock's shirt, touching Sherlock's stomach and sides as he held his back.

"You've never touched me there, I don't think," Sherlock said. He moved his hand to the front of John's waistband. "I've never touched you here," he added softly.

John kissed his mouth again and felt up to his shoulder. "Let's take these off," he murmured.   
  
Sherlock lifted his hand to help John take his t-shirt off and pulled lightly on his pajama bottoms to help get those off as well. Then he wiggled to remove his own clothes. He rested his hand on John's chest and said, "We're nude now."

John smiled at the word choice and nodded, kissing his mouth again. "Yes," he said as he slid his hand down and touched Sherlock's cock, wrapping his fingers around him.

Sherlock exhaled sharply at John's touch. "God," he muttered. It'd been a long time since he'd been touched in this way. He reached over to hold John's cock as well. It was hard and warm. It was all so unusual, but it felt good, right.

"Yes," John moaned softly. "Sherlock . . .yes." He started moving his hand slowly.

Sherlock mimicked John's movements, stroking his cock slow and steady. He leaned over to kiss him and then looked at his face. He smiled and said, "It feels good, John. It's you, you're home, and you're making me feel good."

John nodded as he panted softly.

Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He kept stroking John and felt his own hips begin to move against John's hand. He dropped his head against John's neck and kissed the skin there.

"I love you," John whispered as they moved together. He was hot and squirming with the movement of Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock stopped for a moment and looked at him. "Do you?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

John nodded. "I am sure," he said, stroking a bit harder.

"Good," Sherlock said. "This is all good . .." His whole body felt warm and his breath changed. "John, I'm . . . I don't think I can last much longer . . ." He pressed his mouth against John's neck again.

"I know," John said, swiping his thumb over the top now as he gripped just a bit harder.

"Fuck," Sherlock exhaled and then all his muscles tensed and let go and he felt his body jerk against John and he came over their bellies. He tried to keep moving his hand on John's cock, wanting John to feel this good as well.

John moaned loudly and followed suit, arching into Sherlock and coming between them. He moaned Sherlock's name over and over before he curled close, trying to catch his breath.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's body, not caring about the mess. He just wanted him to be as close as possible. "God, I'm glad you're home," he exhaled softly, holding him tightly.

"Me too. I'm glad I'm home with you," John said.


End file.
